


i’ve been sleeping with the light on (i tend to freak myself out)

by VITRI0L



Series: the branches of time are withering [5]
Category: DreamSMP, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: /roleplay, Betrayal, Exile, Gaslighting, Gen, Give this man a break, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Manipulation, Pain, Panic Attacks, Philza is mentioned, References to Depression, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Tubbo is mentioned, Wilbur is mentioned, depressive mindset, he supposed to be like the cool uncle who’s friends with phil, it’s bad, no beta we die like ranboo anytime techno and tommy stream together, sbi as a family, sbi as a family but in techno’s headcanon, smp!dream is a dick but that’s nothing new, smp!tommy is really going through it, the real reason why tommy always eats golden apples
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28375458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VITRI0L/pseuds/VITRI0L
Summary: tommy knows he can’t trust anyone anymore. so why the fuck does it hurt so bad?(based off the december 27th stream)//lowercase intended\\//TW:\\ references to suicide, an extremely bad and depressive mindset, gaslighting, manipulation & implied child abuse
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), only pain and only suffering
Series: the branches of time are withering [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120232
Comments: 8
Kudos: 307





	i’ve been sleeping with the light on (i tend to freak myself out)

**Author's Note:**

> **//!disclaimer!\\\ this is about tommy’s character only and the events that occur within the smp’s lore!**
> 
> title: scrawny - wallows

it’s early.

it’s also so cold these days.

the snow is piled high, the cold up to his knees. it is so fucking hard to trudge through the white blanket that stretched as far as the eye could see, but he did it anyway.

_“unless you want to cash in on that favour.”_

_“shut up, tommy, the adults are talking.”_

_“i have other plans for that favour. you get to live, tommy. for now.”_

he hates those words. he hates them because they burn his mind. they are unbidden and unwelcome, yet they play on loop in his weary mind and they’re implications haunt him.

 _how rude,_ he thinks dumbly.

tommy is supposed to be dumb, a naïve child who isn’t very self aware. he’s learned that everyone sees him that way. still, he _wants_ to be a dumb, selfish child with nothing better to do than be blissfully ignorant of the world around him.

yet, he stands in the snow, a war torn teen. harden by the throes of conflict and the friendly sight of death and blood, he is sixteen yet he feels so much older. the blond has given up everything for those he’d cared for only to be given up on by the people who never cared for him back. 

how fucking poetic, eh?

his cobblestone tower looms high in the sky. his burning cold fingers brush against the frozen stone. the teen stands out in the open with only a damaged brown coat with a black shawl keeping out the bite of winter.

the coat smells of mint, coffee, gunpowder and _soot._ it makes him want to remember.

tommy just wants to forget.

his frost bitten fingers throb, needles in his nerve endings.

there are bruises that pinch his pallid skin and wiry muscles lovingly.

there are scars that gracefully dance across his concave back and stomach.

he didn’t think he did anything to deserve them.

but he had.

dream had told him so.

they were the evidence of tommy’s blasphemy.

so, he never complained. he was just learning his lesson. 

~~dream didn’t like when he talked too much, so he had always opted to stay quiet. the man was only teaching him a lesson, after all.~~

tommy looks up at his oppressive (in the good way) tower and wishes that there was a wooden ladder inside.

because there isn’t a single person he can trust anymore.

he wants to fly.

even if he doesn’t have an elytra.

he wants to fly. just like phil.

_phil._

tommy bites his lip harshly, unaware of the fact that he can’t feel the pain as his teeth tear through his skin. his mind pounds, someone’s bashing it in with a hammer. he’s thinking too much this morning.

he doesn’t stop.

because when he thinks of phil, he feels conflicted. it makes him dizzy, but tommy still tries his best to work out his thoughts. no, he doesn’t hate phil. not really, anyway. phil was kind of like a father figure to him in this world. and it was nice, he enjoyed the rather familial dynamic.

but, phil had techno, and techno, phil. they were good friends, two whose tale began what seemed like ages ago. they’d all met in a different world. but... techno and phil had formed an alliance instantly. and now that phil had joined the smp, techno had someone to stand beside with a trusting faith.

 _must be nice,_ he thinks bitterly.

tommy wanted something like that. someone... anyone, really, that he could rely on with blind faith. 

someone who wouldn’t betray him at the slightest sign of trouble.

he thought he’d had that with wilbur.

wilbur went insane and blew up the nation they’d worked so hard for.

he had so truly believed that he had that with tubbo. tubbo, another teen and the person he’d brought along when tommy’d been asked to world jump over to dream’s smp. they’d been a package deal, two peas in a pod, if you will and the best of friends.

despite all their history, tubbo exiled him. 

and all because dream had told him to.

“he was never my friend,” tommy says aloud, the wind stealing his words and carrying them far away.

technoblade had said so.

suddenly, tommy wishes he had jumped. back when, only a mere month ago, he’d stacked everything in his inventory so high that the teen could have sworn he could see l’manburg. back at logstedshire, under the disguise of night and with the destruction of his home all around him, tommy should have let the world finally destroy him too. the urge returns now, humming under the teen’s skin like electricity, cracking and scorching tommy alive.

in death, he would have proved tubbo right, though.

_“you’re selfish, tommy.”_

but, he would have proved dream wrong.

_“tommy... you would never do— something like that. you’re here for a very long time.”_

_fucks sake._

“tommy?” a voice questions.

everything feels so cold and so stiff. tommy blinks, eyes glazed by what felt like icicles. he shoved his numb hands into the pockets of the trench-coat (there was a hole in the bottom of one) and he ignored the fire that the snow had started in his leg’s muscles.

technoblade stands beside the teen, red eyes peering down with veiled suspicion. the wind gently blows his unbraided hair about and he looks much warmer in his regal cloak and old uniform.

_antarctic empire._

tommy feels his stomach lurch. he won’t throw up (he hasn’t eaten) and he quickly flicks his gaze down to the snow. 

~~dream didn’t like when tommy made direct eye contact.~~

“what’re you doin’ out so early?”

techno is oppressive in the bad way.

tommy wants to forget. he wishes he didn’t know techno, wishes he didn’t have the naïve notion that this man could possible be like a brother to him. this came from the old days, when wilbur acted like his elder brother and phil acted like their dad and techno was dad’s cool friend who sometimes came round. 

he hates the memories of those days.

he wants to go back.

hatred taints his vision and posions his mind, his words. 

wilby would be so disappointed.

“nothin’, ‘m just thinkin’,” tommy mumbles, unwilling to tell this man the truth and too tired to annunciate the words properly.

he wasn’t going to sit in naïvety or ignorance any longer.

that suspicion never left those hellish depths.

“okay, well, it’s cold out. let’s go get something to eat, yeah?” 

tommy is disgusted by how kind he sounds.

“sure,” he offers plainly, following techno back to the lonely cabin.

there are stacks of golden apples in his inventory. 

tommy knows that the second that techno places any kind of normal food in front of him, his throat will close and panic will slam into him like a train. the blond will scream, he’ll crying and he’ll beg techno not to take away his hard earned supplies. or, he beg to see wilbur again. and techno will gently take tommy’s hand, careful not to spook the teen and place a gapple from his own inventory in the bony hand. 

the blond will eat it and the absorption the fruit will bring what feels like a high. it will slowly wash over the frail teen, washing all his emotions away and ebbing kindly at his pain. a sedative, and it will finally chase the panic away. his emotions are connected to a dial and the apples will rien in all of them, dialing everything down to a one. tommy won’t be able to feel anything other than _just fine_ but it was certainly better than the extreme fluctuation that he normal feels.

it’s all techno can offer.

he will sit in embarrassment and the two will never speak of it. an unspoken vow of silence and secrecy, no matter how often these incidents happened. it was selfish and unfair, tommy knows, but no one cared, so they shouldn’t care to know. 

sure, tommy was on his last life.

it the only thing that no one else is going take from him.

tommy promises himself that he is going to die on his own terms. he has the ability to end it, to kill himself. that’s the only kind of power he holds now. 

and he’s fine with that.

 _i am always in control,_ tommy reminds himself.

the wind whispers gently, speaking words that weave stories of loneliness, pain, agony and betrayal. 

it whispers tommy’s story.

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by a great work called pineapples in my head by cracklesnaple. go read it, i highly recommend it!
> 
> this fic was a lot. it was also a lot of projecting onto smp!tommy. but, that poor fucker can never seem to catch a break and it shatters my very being. the more the lore of the smp develops, the more i become a tommy apologist bc fuck, man, his character is always going through something.
> 
> also, sbi is still a found family, but i decided to put it in techno’s own headcanon. so smp!techno and smp!phil are close good friends and smp!wilbur and smp!tommy are still phil’s sons. i really enjoy the sbi family headcanon and i thought this be a cool and different way of writing it :)
> 
> two works in one night pog!
> 
> have a good night <3


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